The Story of Seville

None of the Franciscan cycle of pictures are in Seville, and only two, The Heavenly Violinist, and The Charity of St. Diego, are in Spain. They were carried away by the French during the War of Independence.

The influence of the two years Murillo had spent in Madrid can readily be traced in these early paintings. The outlines are distinct and in some cases hard; while the tone of the shadows, and the treatment of the lights follows the method of the realists, and affords little or no sign of the melting indecision of outline, the manner so prevalent in his later work. The pictures belonging to this period are said to be painted in the Estilo Frio, or cold style. The best instance in Seville, is La Anunciación de Nuestra Señora, in the Museo.

In his later work Murillo abandoned the influence of Ribera, Zurbaran, Velazquez and the Spanish realists; he developed a manner more personal, and more in harmony with the mystic trend of his emotions. His outlines became softer, and his forms rounder, while his colour began to assume tones of melting transparency. A Spaniard writing of his work at this period remarks that his flesh tints seem to be painted 'con sangre y leche' (with blood and milk).

The first picture painted in this manner, which is known as the Estilo Calédo (warm style), is Nuestra Señora de la Concepción, executed for the brotherhood of the True Cross, in 1655, for the sum of 2500 reals. To this period belong the fine portraits of St. Leander and St. Isidore, in the Sacristía Mayor, of the Cathedral; the Nativity, which formerly hung behind the high altar, until it was carried away by Soult; and the celebrated St. Anthony of Padua, receiving the infant Christ, still to be seen in the Cap del Bautistero.

The portraits of St. Leander and St. Isidore are among the finest instances of the powers of Murillo. All the accessories are painted with the utmost care, and perhaps the only criticism which can be offered is that the figures are rather short. These portraits must be classified with Murillo's fine genre studies – those charming representations of gipsy life and beggar boys, by which he is largely known in this country, but of which Seville unfortunately possesses not a single example.

The Nativity of the Virgin was received by Seville with a burst of enthusiasm. The St. Anthony was painted in 1565, the Chapter paying for it the sum of 10,000 reals. The light in the dim chapel renders it very obscure. A brown-frocked monk kneels at a table, and gazes at the Heavenly Child, who descends towards him. Upon the table rests a vase of lilies, and the story runs that they were so life-like that the birds, flying around the Cathedral, used to come and peck at them, while Murillo was engaged in painting them. The picture was restored, and almost repainted in 1833, which has doubtless done much to destroy its charm.

Shortly after this time Murillo adopted his third and last manner, known as "el Vaporoso," in which the outlines are entirely lost, obliterated in a misty effect of light and shade.

The first pictures painted in this method were executed for the Church of Santa Maria la Blanca, to illustrate the legend of our Lady of the Snow. They were carried away by the French and placed in the Louvre; but were rescued, and are now in the Académia de Belles Artes, at Madrid. The Virgin, appearing to the wife of a Roman senator, and telling her where she will find the patch of snow upon which to erect a church to her honour, is one of the loveliest of Murillo's conceptions.

The great cycle of pictures for the Hospital de la Caridad were painted about this time, being completed between the years 1660 and 1674. Three of the pictures stand in their original position, Moses striking the Rock, The Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, and the Charity of St. Juan de Dios. The figure of the Prophet, in Moses striking the Rock, Sir W. Stirling-Maxwell says, 'is one of impressive dignity.' Clad in pale yellow robe and violet mantle, he occupies the central position in the picture. Behind him stands Aaron, with mystic breastplate, and robe of subdued white. Around the two prophets are grouped numerous figures, men, women and children, all quenching their thirst with feverish eagerness. This has given the picture its name of La Sed (the thirst). The figures bear no resemblance to the men and women of Palestine, they are ordinary Spanish peasants, such as Murillo would see in the streets around him. This custom of introducing common types into his scriptural compositions, Professor Carl Justi considers as one proof of Murillo's genius. The personality of Christ, in the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, lacks the force of the ancient prophet, and the work as a whole is inferior to its companion picture. The Angel appearing to St. Juan de Dios, as he sinks under the burden of a sick man, well represents the later manner of Murillo. In colour this picture is good, the tones are finer than in either of the other works. The five remaining pictures, which completed this great series, were carried away by Soult. The finest, St. Elizabeth of Hungary washing the Feet of Beggars, is now at Madrid. The Return of the Prodigal is in the collection of the Duke of Sutherland. Two others, The Healing of the Paralytic, and Abraham with the Angels, are in England, while the last, St. Peter released from Prison, is in St. Petersburg.

The final work of importance undertaken by Murillo, was the execution of a series of twenty pictures for the Capuchin Convent of the Franciscans. The convent was destroyed in 1835, when its treasures were scattered. The greater number of the pictures are now in the Museo; the immense altar-piece of the Porciuncula is in Madrid; while the Angel de la Guarda is in the Sacristía de los Cálices, having been presented to the Cathedral, by the Franciscans, in 1814. There is great beauty in this composition; which was founded upon the text, Matthew xviii. 10.

An angel, in a rich yellow robe and royal purple mantle, points with one hand to heaven, while with the other she tenderly leads a lovely child. It is painted with great lightness of touch; the diaphanous drapery of the child's dress has a transparency of texture rarely seen in Spanish pictures.

The life of Murillo was nearing its completion. He worked until its very close; and devotion to the art he loved was the immediate cause of his death. In 1678 he painted for the Hospital de los Venerables a very fine Conception, which has since been lost; he also executed two pictures for the Augustine Convent, now in the Museo. In 1681 he was summoned to Cadiz to paint an altar-piece for the Capuchins of that city. The work was nearly completed, when he fell from the scaffolding, upon which he was standing in order to reach upper portions of the picture. He received an internal injury, and returned to Seville to die, on April 3, 1682.

The whole city sorrowed for his loss. His obsequies were conducted with great magnificence. His bier was carried by four marquesses and four knights. He was buried in the Church of Santa Cruz, beneath his favourite picture, The Descent from the Cross, by Pedro Campaña. The spot was marked by a simple marble slab, upon which was engraved, according to his own desire, his name, the figure of a skeleton, and the words 'Vive Meritorus.'

The position Murillo occupies in the heart of Andalusia is almost unprecedented. To this day a picture of great merit is in Seville termed a 'Murillo.' What Cervantes was in literature Murillo was in art. Sir David Wilkie justly remarks, in his comparison of Velazquez and Murillo, 'Velazquez by his high technical excellence is the delight of all artists; Murillo, adapting the higher subjects of art to the commonest understanding of the people, seems, of all painters, the most universal favourite.'

CHAPTER X

The Pictures in the Museo'The office of art is to educate the perception of beauty.'Emerson.

IN the south-western quarter of Seville, in the midst of a palm-shaded plaza, stands the Museo Provincial, a picturesque structure, whose history dates back to the thirteenth century. It was originally a monastery, founded by the pious San Fernando, in the year 1249, for the monks of the order of the Merced, whose duty it was to redeem the Christian captives taken from the Infidel. Sumptuously rebuilt by Carlos V., it was a religious house of great wealth during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Little of the former glory now remains. The convent was destroyed, and the monks expelled in the year 1835. New uses were found for the ancient edifice. The Roman and Visigothic relics were brought from Italica, and stored within the quiet cloisters. Numerous pictures, rescued from the convents and churches by the efforts of Dean Manuel López Cepero, were hung upon the walls of the old convent church. The sole relic of the banished order of the Merceds are the emblazoned arms of the brotherhood, which may still be seen upon the rich and curiously-panelled doors.

The majority of the pictures hang in the Salón de Murillo, the name now given to the convent church. The collection cannot be taken as representative of the genius of Seville. There are numerous examples of the work of Murillo, more than half of the room is occupied by the canvases of the Sevillian favourite. There are some fine instances of the work of Zurbaran. The elder Herrera and Valdés Leal are also well represented. But there are only two specimens of Luis de Vargas and Juan de las Roelas, while the works of Velazquez, Alonso Cano, Nuñez, Campaña and several other artists are entirely absent. The space which the compositions of these masters might have occupied is filled with comparatively worthless pictures, painted by the decadent artists, who lived during the eighteenth century.

The pictures 4 are well lighted, in a tolerable state of preservation, and are arranged with some method.

The compositions of Murillo immediately attract attention. There are more than twenty in number, almost all of which are ranged in the nave of the Salón. The seventeen pictures, painted for the Capuchin Convent, are the most important. The finest is Santo Tomás de Villanueva socorrierdo á los pobres5 (rendering succour to the poor). Murillo esteemed this picture above all his works, and was wont to call it su lienzo (his own picture). In literary conception the work has much merit. It is executed in the misty, vaporoso manner. The light is skilfully handled and the figure of the saint is well realised. Robed in black, and bearing a white mitre in his hand, he stands at the door of his Cathedral, ministering to the needs of a beggar; whose feeble form, clad in filthy rags, affords a fine contrast with the calm beauty of the saint. Penurious men and women, waiting to be relieved, stand grouped in the foreground. The little urchin, who exultingly exhibits the maravedis which have fallen to his share, is a typical Murillo beggar-boy.

The two fine pictures of San Antonio with the infant Jesus are both instances of Murillo's latest manner. A similar picture is the Virgin revealing herself to San Félix de Cantalicio. The outlines in all three pictures are obliterated, lost in a haze of misty vapour. The deposition of the drapery in St. Leander and St. Buenaventura is admirable. The picture of Santas Justas y Rufina, supporting the famous Giralda Tower, to guard it from the ravages of the tempest, should be compared with the picture of the same saints by Francisco Goya, in the Sacristía de los Cálices, in the Cathedral. In the composition of Goya we have an instance of a saintly subject treated in a realistic manner; Murillo follows the accustomed mode and depicts the maidens as holy saints, crowned with halos of glory.

The fable that the picture of La Virgen con el Niño Jesús was painted upon a serviette has no foundation, as can readily be seen by examining the panel upon which the study is painted. The story, which is very widely credited, says that the cook at the Capuchin Convent, having rendered Murillo some service, was asked by him what recompense he desired. He at once craved a sketch from the hand of the great master. Murillo, according to the fable, took the serviette which the cook was carrying, and with a few rapid touches of his brush created the picture, which is still noteworthy for the brilliancy of its tints.

One of the sweetest of Murillo's Madonnas may be seen in El Nacimiento de Jesucristo (The Nativity). Cean Bermudez praises this picture very highly, while Antonio Ponz, a later Spanish critic, says that the stream of light which floods the picture is worthy of Correggio. There are four Immaculate Conceptions. In one the Virgin is supposed to be a portrait of the daughter of Murillo. Possibly the finest is the one termed 'la Grande,' although the difference between the pictures is very slight.

At the farther end of the nave, close to the works of Murillo, is El Martirio de San Andres, by Juan de las Roelas, a huge composition, crowded with numberless figures. In spite of this defect the picture has power. The expression of the faces is individual and life-like, and the form of the martyr, bound to his double-cross, is well drawn. The chief merit of the work rests in its colour, which is Venetian in many of its tones. Very beautiful is the picture of Santa Ana teaching the Virgin to read. The drawing, especially of the hands, is defective, but the flesh tints are full of rich warmth, indeed, the colouring of the whole picture can hardly be too highly praised.

Near to the Martyrdom of St. Andrew hang the Visión de San Basilio and the Apotéosis of San Hermenegildo, two works of great size, by Herrera el Viego. The latter is the finer composition as the canvas of the Vision is overcrowded and the interest of the work is not sufficiently centralised. San Hermenegildo is a noteworthy instance of the power of Herrera, and exemplifies his vigorous individual style. The favoured saint of Seville ascends to heaven in a flood of yellow glory, which reveals the steel blue of his cuirass, and the rich crimson of his flowing mantle. Two angels bear the axe and chain, the trophies of his triumph; while all around cherubs hover, waiting to crown with flowers the newly-martyred saint. Beneath are three figures – a fair-haired, kneeling boy, the son of San Hermenegildo, St. Isidore, robed and mitred, and King Leovigild, the Visigoth, who imprisoned and killed his brother for his defection from the Arian faith.

Upon the same wall as the Santa Ana are the works of Juan de Valdés Leal. They are of uneven merit, and traces of hurry and lack of careful completion may be discerned in almost all of them. One of the most interesting is, La Virgen, las tres Marías y San Juan, en busca (search) de Jesús. The figures convey the idea of motion, while eager expectancy finds expression in look and gesture. The series of pictures illustrative of the life of San Jerónimo are also interesting, notwithstanding the lack of harmony which mars several of the compositions. Entirely distinct are, La Concepción, and La Asunción. They are poor, both in drawing and colour; distinctly mannered, and devoid of simplicity and deep religious feeling.

The works of Francisco de Zurbaran are collected in the old convent choir. In the centre is, La Apotéosis de Santo Tomás de Aquino, considered by some critics the masterpiece of Zurbaran. It is a triple altar-piece, allegorically representing the death of the patron of the College of St. Thomas. The saint is ascending to heaven to join the blessed Trinity, the Virgin, St. Paul, and the hosts of glory. Below sit the venerable figures of the Doctors of the Church; on the right kneels the Bishop Diego de Dega, the founder of the college, while the Emperor, Charles V., with a train of ecclesiastics, stands upon the left. The dark, mild face of the figure immediately behind the Emperor is supposed to be the portrait of Zurbaran. As a work of art the picture is defective; it lacks charm, and the literary interest of the composition is too diffused. The execution is excellent, the colour, though sombre, is rich with a splendid mellowness of tone, while each of the heads bears the imprint of being a separate study.

The three studies of Carthusian monks amply manifest the charm which this allegorical composition lacks. La Virgen de las Cuevas, and San Hugo en el refectorio will be found on either side of the choir, while the third of the series, Confrencia de San Bruno con Urban II. hangs close to the St. Thomas. The genius of Zurbaran is disclosed in these scenes of monastic life. All three pictures are executed with remarkable fidelity, but the finest of the three is St. Hugo visiting the monks in their refectory. It is painted with realistic and individual truth. The monks, clad in the white robes of the Carthusians, sit around a table at their mid-day repast. In the foreground stands the aged figure of St. Hugo, attended by a young page. The saint has come to reprove the order for unlawfully dining upon flesh meat. His purple vestments supply an effect of fine colour, which contrasts with the dull white cowls and frocks of the brothers. What cold, passionless faces! Zurbaran has embodied the very spirit of asceticism. Each monk is a portrait, probably drawn from life. It is a perfect realisation of a monastic scene from the life of ancient Spain.

We can only touch briefly upon the remaining pictures of Zurbaran. They are all worthy of study. Signs of weak drawing can often be detected, but the effort after truthful expression, and the entire absence of a desire to please by any special trick of manner will commend his work to every student. Note the simple, yet powerful, sincerity of his Crucifixion. Consider the manner in which he has depicted the boy Jesus in the picture, El Niño Jesús. A boy clad in a simple gown of darkest grey; no halo surrounds his head, and upon his knees rests a twisted crown of thorns. One of the prickly spines has pierced the boy's finger, and with the verity of life Zurbaran depicts him pressing the finger to extract the thorn. The drawing of the figure is faulty and the execution of the little sketch is not equal to many of the other pictures, but the mode of treatment illustrates very convincingly the sincerity of the artist's purpose. Many of the studies of monkish figures are very fine. San Luis Beltrán is a work of wonderful power. The careful painting of the hands, and the way in which every detail of the picture is subordinated to the whole effect deserve high praise.

To turn from the works of Zurbaran to the pictures of Francisco Pacheco and Juan de Castillo is somewhat difficult. The hard, flat, lifeless portraits of the one, and the dull, faultily drawn, religious composition of the other, offer little inducement to linger. Were it not for the interest which attaches to these artists from the illustrious fame of their pupils, their very names would hardly be remembered.

Equally disappointing are the majority of the remaining canvases, which hang in the nave of the Museo. The modern pictures appear out of place. The chief idea they convey is one of intense crudity of colour. Among the numerous pupils and imitators of Murillo not one is worthy of attention. The work of the pupils of Zurbaran reaches a somewhat higher level. The pictures of the Apostles, by the brothers Miguel and Francisco Polancos are good studies.

In the nave are two pictures, both good and one of fine merit, executed by artists not belonging to the Sevillian school. La Sagrada Cena (The Last Supper), by Pablo de Céspedes, the artist of Córdoba, 1538-1608, hangs upon the end wall of the nave, near to the Martyrdom of St. Andrew. The colour is good, there is a slight confusion of detail, but the picture is not without charm. The portrait of himself, by Doménico Theotocópuli,6 1548-1625, better known as El Greco, the genius of Toledo, will be found near the door. It is a magnificent study and testifies to the power of the hand which executed it. Composition and technique alike, are above praise. The portrait is life-like in its reality; we grow to know the dark face of the artist, as he stands, with his brush and palette in his hand.

Three other rooms, of small size, complete the Museo. The pictures they contain are not of great importance, but there are a few interesting canvases in the old sacristy, leading from the south transept of the Salón. Among them are several compositions of the early fifteenth century, classified as belonging to the Escuela Flamenca, by artists whose names have not been preserved. The tones in many of these antique pictures are wonderful, and they are all painted with a naïve simplicity. The colour in the two compositions, El Señor Coronado de espinas (thorns), and La Anunciación de Nuestra Señora is especially good. The long lean figures and conventional grief depicted in El enterramiento del Señor, strongly resemble the similar picture by Sanchez de Castro, in the house of Murillo.

The works of Francisco Frutet will be found in this room. The finest, a grand triptych, entitled, Jesús en el camino (road) del Calvario, is a work of much beauty. The central picture of the Crucifixion is finely conceived, and Sir W. Stirling-Maxwell thinks that several of the figures bear a resemblance to the Spasimo de Sicilia of Raphael.

El Juicio Final, by Martin Vos, a Flemish painter, who worked in Seville during the early years of the sixteenth century, is a quaintly-conceived allegorical picture. This finest portion represents the hosts of the wicked. The drawing of the figures is good, but the canvas is much crowded.

The Statuary in the Museo

Before studying Spanish statuary, it is well to remember that this branch of art never attained to the same level in the Peninsula as the sister art of painting. The reason of this lack of development is not difficult to appreciate, when we remember that statuary was executed, almost without exception, for the religious uses of the Catholic Church. The images were needed to increase the pious fervour of the populace; they were carried in the religious processions, and often they were credited with miracle-working powers. The one necessity for a Spanish statue was that it should be an exact imitation of life. The more realistic the illusion, the greater was the power of the statue to conform to the requirements of the Church.

It will readily be seen that marble – the substance most fitting for the artistic rendering of form, would not comply with these demands. Thus, in Spain, the classic marble was discarded, while wood and plaster were employed in its place. These substances could be readily coloured, or even covered with a canvas, like a skin, and then painted to counterfeit life. This barbaric custom – a relic of heathen days, did much to seal the doom of the art of sculpture in Spain. In seeking to imitate life the artists frequently rendered their statues grotesque. The ambition of art is not to be a deceptive imitation of nature. The true purpose of sculpture is to depict pure form; when it departs from this limitation it loses its distinguishing motive, the representation of repose, and becomes a degraded intermingling of the two arts of sculpture and painting.

Yet, in spite of these limitations, there are several Spanish sculptors whose works deserve praise, and two of the most famous lived and worked in Seville.

Pietro Torriggiano, of Florence, a roving soldier-sculptor, came to Spain, in the year 1520. He had journeyed in many lands, and to his skill we owe the fine tomb of Henry VII., in Westminster Abbey. He settled in Seville, and soon completed his great work, San Jerónimo penitente, now in the north transept of the Museo.

It is impossible to rightly estimate the value of this work in its present position. The bright colours of the modern picture, which forms its background, are entirely unharmonious. The penitent saint, with his sinewy, attenuated form, frowning brow and shaggy locks, needs to be seen alone. Its original home was a lonely grotto in the gardens of the Jeronimite Convent; and in such a place of quiet solitude we must picture it, before we can appraise its worth. Cean Bermudez twice visited it in company with Francisco Goya. It excited their unbounded admiration, and Goya pronounced it 'the finest piece of work of modern sculpture in Spain, and perhaps in the world.' Torriggiano fell under the ban of the Inquisition, and died in the prison of the Holy Office.